Only You
by ChronicLegCramp-Since'99
Summary: "Why do you let me do this?" The man above him whispered almost imploringly, his breath ghosting over Mordred's mouth. 'Why do you do this? ' Mordred cant help but keep going back to the man he believes will never love him. Merdred. Rated M just in case. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Only You**

**A Merlin Fanfic by ChronicLegCramp-Since'99**

Pairing: Merdred

*Disclaimer: Merlin and all its characters do not belong to me*

* * *

Mordred was on his hands and knees, nails digging deep into the moist earth beneath him and his cotton trousers around his calves. His shirt and sapphire, fur-lined coat clung to his back with sweat, his light blue scarf discarded on the ground somewhere out of sight. With each relentless thrust inside him, he let out raw, throaty groans into the peaceful silence of the forest surrounding him, the grips on his hips tightening until they felt like steel. His entire frame was shuddering when he eventually found release, throwing his head back and crying out a name, his voice blending with another's in his foggy ears. The body behind him half collapsed across his back as he panted, head lulling and eyes closing with the impact of the relief surging within him. He barely registered the quick breaths stirring his thick brunette locks, his senses caressed by the acute swarm of magic cocooning them- one glorious and the other subtler, tempering each other; complimenting each other.

It felt like the first time even though he had long lost count of the nights he'd spent in the exact same position, in the exact same forest. There had been a breeze when he'd first made his way out here but now the air was still, isolated. He felt the beginnings of the familiar come down he had grown accustomed to as the softening flesh slid out of him, leaving him hollow and cold. With trembling fingers, he raised himself onto his knees to pull up his trousers and undergarments, the act nauseatingly habitual and monotonous. He felt weak, drained and after a moment of fighting the urge to sway, he succumbed to the grassy bed beneath him, wearily rolling onto his back and his eyelids heavily falling shut against the black starlit sky above.

He knew Merlin was still there, the manservant's presence a scorching sun on the peripheral of his consciousness. He heard the mild rustle of movement and then he could feel the body heat hovering over him, not touching. He didn't question why Merlin hadn't already left him there like he usually did; he had learnt quickly that questioning the man with the feathery black hair and the piercing blue eyes was futile.

"Why do you let me do this?" The man above him whispered almost imploringly, his breath ghosting over Mordred's mouth. The druid didn't have the energy to speak aloud but as he sought out the warlock's mind with his thoughts, he cracked open his tired, crystal-clear eyes.

_'Why do you do this?'_ There was no haughtiness or challenge in his mental tone but the man gazing down at him with a hand on the ground either side of his head screwed up his prominent features in a displeased frown.

"Because I'm selfish..." Merlin answered after a long pause that had Mordred's heartbeat speeding up, his body thrumming with the effort of not leaning up against the warlock's. Merlin's expression was nothing short of guilty and it tore at his heart like teeth. He wished that just once, he would look up into Merlin's face and see something different- anything but the guilt and torment that was ever-present whenever they were alone together like this.

_'Then I am selfish as well,'_ he replied, lacing the words with all the tenderness he felt for the warlock, his nerves too thread-bare and his head too exhausted to care about self-preservation at the moment. Merlin gave a laboured sigh, his gaze skittering away for a few seconds, pushing Mordred to regain his attention. _'Who do you think of...?'_ Part of him regretted asking it and yet another part more dominant- not to mention masochistic- wanted to know. Predictably however, Merlin evaded the question and turned his words back on him.

"Who do you think of?"

_'No one but you,'_ he murmured into the manservant's thoughts earnestly, enunciating each word and sharpening the intensity of his eyes ever so slightly. Merlin's expression soured infinitesimally but it appeared to be directed more inwards than at the druid.

"Because of who I will be," Merlin stated more than asked with a bitter, almost resentful edge to his tone. Mordred shook his head slowly, a small hint of a smile lightening his angular features as he held the warlock's reluctant gaze.

_'Because of who you _are_.'_ He continued to gaze up unflinchingly at Merlin as the latter's eyes wavered, another sigh escaping his plush lips. The druid held his breath as he felt tentative fingertips brush along his jaw, trailing down his neck before a palm curled around his throat.

"What if I was to strangle you?" He stared up at Merlin, allowing an artificial cloak of calm to settle around him; the warlock was looking intently down at the hand encircling his neck. Mordred saw the manservant notice the way he swallowed but he quietly quelled all traces of fear stirring up within him; this was _Emrys_.

_'I would probably let you,'_ he finally whispered into the warlock's mind, tone honest and heartfelt. His chest heaved when Merlin's deep blue eyes flitted back up to his in surprise, his hand frozen on his neck. Mordred's lips parted slightly as his breathing became ever more ragged. He was on tenter hooks, watching Merlin and following the hot trail his fingers left on the sensitive skin of his neck, repressing a contented sigh as the manservant cupped the side of his face, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb.

"And..." He waited as patiently as was possible while Merlin hesitated, fisting his hands so hard that his filthy nails bit into his palms, simply to keep them from reaching for the older man. "...what if I was to kiss you?" Mordred might have laughed if it wasn't for the way Merlin was studying his open mouth, fingers tracing their shape.

_'I would let you do anything to me, Emrys,'_ he told the warlock, his mental voice firm and unashamed. He loved the way Merlin's eyes widened; loved the way his pupils blew wide as they gazed unblinking at each other. _'Only you.'_ He was practically dizzy with the tension fusing between their mouths, waiting and hoping for the soothing balm that were Merlin's lips. His eyes fluttered closed as Merlin leaned in closer, their breaths mingling together.

Seconds went by; and then minutes. When he thought he would go mad with the painful anticipation, he opened his eyes. All his gaze was met with was the black sky above him. A cool shadow descended on him, chilling his bones where he lay abandoned, alone and empty.

_Only you can do this to me._

* * *

**_Thanks for reading!_**

**_This was inspired by the song 505 by Arctic Monkeys :)_**


	2. Chapter 2

It had been over a week now since Mordred's last rendezvous with Merlin- decidedly far too long. The young knight had begun to lose his focus; his concentration was near absent during training and his appetite appeared to be missing. All he could think about was the warlock and when the latter would next request his company- or at the very least his body. He had grown too accustomed to their little arrangement, so much so that he found it incredibly frustrating waiting to be summoned- not knowing when or how the call would come. Although the fact that it had only been a week made Mordred feel pathetic, it had reached a point where he'd begun to question whether Merlin would ever call upon him again.

Whenever they were in each others presence, whether it be around the castle or during meetings, it was difficult for him to resist staring at the dark haired beauty that was Emrys. However, his gaze and meaningful looks went unmet. Merlin didn't so much as glance in his general direction. Mordred was planning on confronting Arthur's faithful manservant when finally, the latter decided to acknowledge his existence again. They had crossed paths in the corridors as they did on many occasions, Mordred openly watching Merlin while Merlin did the opposite. It had angered Mordred to no end until it was snubbed out by the warlocks authoritative voice in his head.

_'Meet me tonight. Make sure you are not followed.'_

_'I always do,'_ was his only response, keeping his mental tone as devoid of emotion as he could in that moment. His heart had swelled at merely hearing Merlin's voice speaking to him and his excitement and relief only trebled at the words spoken. He could hardly contain himself as he made his way to his chambers to get washed and changed out of his armour. He only hoped that Merlin would stay and talk with him as he had the previous time.

* * *

As he moved like a ghost through the forest, nearing their usual meeting place, he struggled to quell the odd blend of anticipation and anxiety that warred within him. At glimpsing Merlin's tall frame ahead of him, having already arrived, it was hard to keep the wide smile from morphing his delicate features.

"Merlin," he began softly as he drew closer but the older man silenced him with a slight shake of his head. His eyebrows arched faintly in confusion as his feet slowed to a stop a short distance from the object of his affection. Merlin's pale face, rosy-cheeked from the cool night air, held a solemn cast to it; yet there was a resolution there that tied knots in Mordred's stomach.

"I can't do this..." the warlock told him with a strained sigh, piercing blue eyes dropping away from Mordred's searching gaze.

"Why not?" He asked after a stifling moment, when Merlin didn't elaborate. His voice was thick with the emotions he was trying desperately to suppress but there must have been something shining through the cracks in his mask because after a seconds hesitation, Merlin closed the gap between them. He remained eerily still, frozen to the spot as the warlock brought his hands up to cup his cheeks, thumbs caressing his skin, surprisingly tender.

"There's too much at stake," Merlin said quietly but firmly as if imploring him to understand. "It's impossible." Mordred's crystal-blue eyes darted up to his, expression partly incredulous, partly desolate.

"What's at stake?" He demanded, no longer caring how he looked or sounded. He would not lose Merlin. Not now. He stepped closer so that their bodies were touching lightly, grasping onto the manservant's tan jacket fiercely. Merlin released a shuddering breath at their proximity, curling his elegant fingers into the druid's brunette locks.

"Everything."

"I don't understand," Mordred replied, trying to keep the heat out of his voice as he stared up at the man that he would rather die than let go.

"I know," was the warlock's only response, giving him the first truly kind and gentle look since their reunion. It didn't help much to calm his beating heart. He didn't want Merlin's goodbye- he resented it, despised it. Nevertheless, the man with the feathery black hair relinquished his hold on him and made to head back home.

"Merlin, _wait_...please..." he pleaded without a moments thought or shame as he spun around to stare after the warlock's retreating back. "I came here for _you_! Please don't turn your back on me again..." His voice cracked as he begged unabashedly, fear and agony racing through his veins. His hands fisted harder, nails biting into his palms savagely when Merlin didn't relent and break stride.

_'Emrys...'_ he called out to the warlock's mind as a last resort, even as he refused to physically chase after him.

"Emrys doesn't exist!" Mordred swallowed harshly at the older man's sudden outburst. Merlin, who had turned abruptly, was glaring half-heartedly as he paced back a couple steps. "I'm just Merlin- I always have been."

"That's not what I meant!" Mordred returned hastily, the copious amounts of pent up feelings pouring forth in his face and voice and out-spread hands. "I didn't take an oath to defend the king for Emrys- I did it for _you_, Merlin because...because it is the only thing you will allow me to give you!"

"Don't." Merlin's face held a warning now but Mordred couldn't stop himself.

"I could give you so much more- but Arthur's safety...that's all you care about, isn't it? That's all you want." Venomous sarcasm had slipped into his tone unbidden and he saw the change in Merlin's features by the light of the moon. He expected what the warlock to say next to be scathing, full of righteous fury and condescension. He wished it had been; it would have made things so much easier that way.

"...It's not...all I want..." Merlin began in a dangerously quiet voice. "You asked me why I do what I do...its because I need it. I'm selfish. I do it and I think only of you every single time- nobody else, nothing else. I should be focusing on protecting Arthur and yet I find myself here with you, abandoning my responsibility even if just for a moment; and I enjoy it. I'm happy...with you of all people!" There were several minutes of stunned silence before the young knight could find his voice again, hanging his head in acute misery. Merlin wanted him, but he would give him up for the greater good.

"I can never be worthy of you..." he whispered out, barely audible but Merlin heard him all the same.

"No, that's just it!" Merlin argued, stepping forward a couple more steps in his urgency. "I will never live up to your beliefs and expectations of me, Mordred. This fantasy, this ideal of me that you hold so dear in your head and your heart...its not real." He paused, smiling sadly in regret as Mordred started to shake his head frantically. "The reality is that I will hurt you, intentionally or not."

"I _know_ you, Merlin," Mordred persisted, stumbling forwards towards him. "And if it hurts this much to be without you then I can safely say, without a doubt, that nothing would ever hurt me again as long as we were together." Before he had even finished he had seen the look on Merlin's face. Nothing he said or did would change the warlock's decision. Merlin was as unmovable as the Feorre Mountains.

"Mordred, my loyalty is to Arthur first and foremost," Merlin said slowly but surely, casting his gaze downwards and folding his hands at his back in a cold, formal manner. "That is my role...and my duty." There was nothing left to say, Mordred knew, so he clamped his jaw as a single tear trickled down his cheek. He let his eyes slide closed in his mute despair, listening to the warlock's footsteps carrying his love away from him.

"And my loyalty is to you, Merlin...as it ever shall be..." He breathed out in defeat, finally letting his weak knees give way beneath him.

* * *

_**Heya, I know its been a longggggggg time but heres the second chapter xD  
This was inspired by Atmosphere by Joy Division :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

Mordred didn't know how long it had been since the night Merlin had walked away from him. He knew it had been over a week but it still felt so fresh and vivid in his mind that he could hardly bear it. When he closed his eyes he saw Merlin's retreating back, stiff and proud. When he opened them, he saw the ill sheen of the warlock's face and the black bags under his eyes that told of sleepless nights. Mordred didn't even have the energy to entertain the idea that their parting was the cause of Merlin's wretched state- for all he knew there had been trouble yet again behind the scenes of Camelot- but it didn't stop his stomach from roiling with worry. He had come to hate that he cared- hate that the mere sight of Merlin had his heart sinking at the same time as longing for the older man's touch, a look, anything. How could he have been so stupid? He thought, how could he have been so naïve after all that he'd grown up with, that he'd witnessed throughout his sorry life. He was blind now where Merlin was concerned, a stark contrast to when they'd first met and he had been able to see everything. When his young gaze had landed on the lanky boy and he had simply known.

_Emrys, I have found you._

_And now I have lost you._

He was pulled out of his wallowing by the sound of Arthur's bellowing voice, demanding why they could not find trace of Morgana. It had been rhetorical, an outburst of frustration but as Mordred glanced around the round table at his fellow knights, he could tell they were feeling just as uneasy and helpless as he did. Gwaine and Percival were either side of him, mirroring each other's look of strong will and determination that Mordred smiled tentatively at, conjuring up the same feelings from deep within himself.

"She cannot hide forever, Sire," Sir Leon spoke up purposefully before the pregnant silence could go on too long. "And when she emerges we _will_ see her coming." A fiery harmony of assent went around the table but the tension in the King's shoulders didn't lessen.

"Do you have any idea what's gotten into Merlin recently?" Mordred heard whispered into his ear once the meeting had continued onto other matters. Before he could slide a glance in Gwaine's direction, Percival was joining in.

"He doesn't look too good...we know you and Merlin don't talk much but..." The druid waited patiently albeit dismally as Percival searched for words, honest gaze looking into his shadowed one.

"Perhaps your powers of perception are stronger than ours," Gwaine finished smoothly, warm hazel eyes going from Mordred over to Merlin as a contemplative look graced his rugged features. Mordred swallowed hard past the sharp obstacle in his throat as he followed the eye-lines of his fast becoming close friends. The faithful manservant was standing a little back from the King's left, his piercing blue eyes listless and staring into nothing. It cut at Mordred to see Merlin looking so lifeless. Since he had re-entered Camelot, he had known Merlin to be either passionate, suspicious or jovial, the latter never directed at him but he had seen it nonetheless. To see the warlock now, looking as if he were nothing short of a lost child tore sharply at his heart, an invisible wound left open to bleed freely.

_'Merlin...'_ He had not meant to think his love's name, much less sift it into his mind but he couldn't take it back now. Merlin appeared unaffected and a fear gripped the young knight that the former couldn't hear him; that a connection had been broken that could never be fixed. _'Merlin...Merlin...' _He watched as Merlin's eyes slowly focused, his brow knitting together in a troubled fashion. The relief that came with the reaction quickly dissolved. Merlin didn't look at him, instead turned his face away._ 'I know you can hear me...'_ he attempted again, calmly, soothingly. Yet it didn't have the desired effect on the warlock that he had wanted. At the very least, he had responded to his call.

_'Stop.'_ Merlin's tone was firm and his expression belied little else, but Mordred would not relent.

_'Not until you talk to me...'_ His mental voice was stubborn and he saw the way Merlin's jaw clamped shut in response, filling him with exasperation. _'Merlin...Merlin!' _The warlock shook his head, gripping it with a hand and made to flee the grand hall, causing Mordred to shut his eyes wearily, chest heaving painfully.

"Where do you think you're going, Merlin?" The King demanded, sounding incredulous.

"I'm sorry, Sire, I'm feeling unwell," the manservant paused briefly to say, his voice thicker than normal. The druid had opened his eyes but kept them staring down at his clasped hands in front of him as he once again was forced to listen to Merlin's retreating footsteps.

"Unwell? _Mer_lin!"

Before the door slammed shut behind the older man, Mordred whispered solemnly to his mind. _'You cannot avoid me forever.'_

* * *

Over the next few days, Mordred threw himself into his training. It wasn't much of a distraction but it was a distraction nonetheless and it was a healthier option than brooding alone in his chambers for hours on end. He found himself sparring against Arthur today while the other knights watched from the sidelines. He felt Merlin's presence like a dagger wedged between his ribs, the manservant standing off somewhere out of his field of vision, but causing him distress all the same. He dodged a blow and swung his sword up with a surge of untempered, fiery strength, catching the King's sword close to the hilt and sending it flying end over end to the grass below. Heady with adrenaline, he felt a grin of prideful satisfaction grow across his features before he caught himself, straightening and glancing hastily up at Arthur.

"I-I'm sorry, Sire-" he began breathlessly, trepidation clutching at his heart for a beat, until he registered the surprised but impressed smile on the King's face.

"That was incredible, Mordred," Arthur praised, giving him a hearty clap on his shoulder, which signalled a rise of cheer from their eager audience. "I might have to start actually trying with you." There was a round of laughter, a nice reprieve from the previously tense atmosphere and Mordred felt the corners of his lips lift once more.

"Thank you, Sire," he replied in his usual humble tones. However, as he turned halfway towards the crowd of knights, his gaze was encaged by Merlin's. The warlock's eyes were unreadable and yet gleaming with a hard kind of intensity that had the young brunette's blood running cold. His eyes dropped fleetingly to the hand Merlin held poised in mid-air as if it had frozen in place and his chest panged with the realisation that he had been seconds away from being on the receiving end of Merlin's magic. He wanted to glare at the older man but he couldn't bring himself to. He felt dead inside, knowing that Merlin trusted him so little that he would think him capable of harming their King.

"You'll have to teach me some of those tricks, Mordred," Percival teased him, redirecting his attention and ruffling his hair fondly.

"If you're lucky." He wanted to escape everyone's scrutiny, most of all the warlock's, to be alone awhile with his darker thoughts, but he smiled and laughed at Gwaine and Percival's antics and pushed his ever-present pain to the back of his mind. He was getting good at that, and part of him wondered if he should be concerned.

* * *

All it had taken was a cursory look from Merlin for the druid to lose all interest in training. No matter what he said or did, Merlin judged him. Whether it was befriending Morgana, being too enthusiastic about gaining strength in his fighting, merely having magic and being a knight at the same time. He didn't think he'd ever understand the last one, considering Merlin not only had magic but was on his way to being the greatest sorcerer ever to walk this land. None of it made sense. Not even the manservant's decision to engage in sexual encounters with him- why do it if he thought the brunette so untrustworthy and undeserving of his time? The same thoughts drove circles round and round his mind, until enough weeks had past that he had finally once again grown accustomed to the lack of contact with Merlin in his life. It still hurt to see the man with the feathery black hair and intelligent blue eyes but he found himself spending less time dwelling on him, questioning his actions.

Improvement in his knights training ceased but it didn't regress either, his interest in it all having retracted immeasurably. More regularly it occurred to him to leave Camelot altogether, or perhaps leave the castle in pursuit of another profession in town. Something simple and calm, normal. Like a baker's or blacksmith's apprentice. It wouldn't be too difficult; he had acquired a diverse skill-set during his many years as a wanderer, things he'd picked up while living with his own people. Although even as he gave it serious thought, it would always lead him back to the same daunting question. _How can I leave while Merlin remains?_

He registered the elbow to his face too slowly to defend himself, hitting the ground and struggling weakly to sit upright.

_'Mordred!'_

He winced at the unexpected voice reverberating throughout his skull, reaching up to hold his head as the point of his opponents sword kissed the underside of his jaw. Absently, he tasted the blood that was trickling down from his nose, his gaze belatedly flitting towards where he knew Merlin was standing, ignoring Arthur for a moment. The warlock was already staring at him, alarm the clear emotion shining in his eyes. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he saw Merlin swallow, their gazes locked so intently that it was an effort to drag his eyes away. He felt like he should say something- Merlin hadn't so much as glanced at him in weeks, let alone looked at him like this, like he cared about him. Before he could however, the King was hauling him up to his feet and Gwaine was swaggering over to meet him with a smirk.

"You need to stay focused, Mordred," Arthur advised with a gentle smile that seemed to say 'better luck next time'. "Can't have you falling asleep on the battlefield." The blond strode off to join the other knights as they headed back.

"That was priceless," the roguish man said with a playful grin but he wrapped a friendly arm around his shoulders as they made their way across the field. "Seriously, where's your head at, Mor? You haven't been yourself lately. First Merlin, now you." Mordred kept his gaze firmly on the ground, Gwaine's kindness and the mention of Merlin causing a lump to form in his throat. He knew his friend was hoping he would confide in him but he wasn't sure he could find the right words even if he'd wanted to. After a pause, he came to a hesitant stop and met Gwaine's hazel eyes.

"I've been thinking that perhaps I am not cut out for knighthood after all..." he trailed off numbly, reading the surprise in the other man's expression.

"Listen, Mordred, if you decide it isn't what you want, I won't hold it against you. None of the men will," Gwaine told him honestly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But what I will say is this: there is no one- _no one_\- better befitting a knight than you, Mordred. So if this is about you doubting whether you're good enough, I'm here to tell you that is _not_ the case. You're an asset to us and one we'd sorely miss." The brunette felt his eyes welling up at his friend's encouragement and grit his teeth against the tears, just about managing to produce a soft, grateful smile.

"You think so...?" He asked, wiping away the blood from his nose with the back of his hand.

"Mor, I shouldn't have to tell you this since it's plain as day but you are one of the finest knights we've got. Me included, of course." Gwaine smirked in his mischievous, self-confident way and Mordred couldn't stop the quiet chuckle that fell from his lips.

"Thank you, Gwaine," he said with a nod, squeezing the man's arm. "I am honoured to have a friend like you. There haven't been many."

"Come on now, don't go all soppy on me," Gwaine joked lightly before pulling him into a strong hug. The druid accepted it gladly, closing his eyes and releasing a long, tired breath. He felt like the weight on his shoulders had lifted ever so slightly, relishing in the relief that came with it. They patted each other on the back and let go, smiling at one another before resuming their walk back to the castle. Gwaine was right- this was where he belonged now and he wasn't going to give it up for the world.

* * *

He and Gwaine had been the last to trickle into the armoury but the brunette found himself taking his time all the same. He wasn't in a rush to return to his chambers and the other knights had most likely already left to grab a quick pint down in the tavern before tonight's banquet. He glanced up from where he sat quietly on a sturdy, wooden bench at Gwaine's mad-dash farewell through the door. That was when he noticed that Merlin was still there. The manservant was sitting on a bench adjacent to his, bent forward and calmly polishing the King's sword. He shifted uncomfortably, realising that this was the first time he and Merlin had been properly alone together since that night a month and a half ago. He wondered why Merlin had chosen to stay here to do his work, knowing that Mordred would be here long after everyone else. Maybe Merlin was so indifferent to his presence that it wasn't necessary to avoid him anymore. Even as he thought that, he recalled the look on the older man's face earlier. He didn't want to think anything of it, didn't want to think that there had been fear in the man's eyes, fear for his safety, but it was hard not to.

He glanced sideways at Merlin after pulling the chain-mail off over his head, leaving him in his cotton shirt and trousers and many pounds lighter. Light from the setting sun was shining in through a window high up above where Merlin was sitting, illuminating his pale, slender profile and bringing out shades of brown from his black hair. As he stared, mildly dazed, Merlin gathered up his polishing equipment and Arthur's sword to get to his feet. Mordred reluctantly dropped his gaze to his clasped hands, listening to the sound of the door opening. When it didn't bang shut however, he glanced up. It startled him slightly to see the warlock standing with his foot holding the door open and his eyes on him. He watched almost impatiently as Merlin opened his mouth to speak, eyes flickering down then up again, mouth falling closed.

"If you have something to say, Merlin..." He breathed out, leaving the rest unsaid and throwing up an irritable front.

"You were reckless today," Merlin said finally, setting his jaw in what the brunette supposed was to help steel his nerves. He could tell that this wasn't easy for Merlin either.

"And what concern is that of yours?" It was out before he could prevent himself but regardless, he felt a sense of release in it. All the bitter hurt and betrayal came bubbling up to the surface, begging for release and if he really thought about it, Merlin deserved it after how he'd treated him. He'd used and discarded him, refused to acknowledge his existence for over a month and now, out of the blue, he wanted to grace him with his undivided attention? He would have laughed if it wasn't for the fact that his stomach was in knots as a result of the way the older man was studying him.

"If you had been in real battle, it would have cost you your life."

"I'm sure I would have had you there to protect me with your magic- oh wait, that's only Arthur's privilege-" He didn't like the sound of his voice full of acidic scorn, but he couldn't deny that part of him enjoyed seeing the heat that flashed in the warlock's eyes, the way his nostrils flared.

"Don't, Mordred." He had more scathing words perched on the tip of his tongue but he faltered at the pleading tint to Merlin's striking features, the feebly concealed sorrow that called out to his own.

"...You are right," he relented in a subdued voice, getting to his feet and fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve. "The last thing I want is to put you at risk." His fair face was sincere, desperate almost, for Merlin to see and understand just how much he meant to him. The warlock's expression smoothed out, stress lines disappearing for once and he offered the brunette a minuscule but genuine smile.

"You should get some rest-" Merlin started to say but Mordred cut him off, hastily taking a step forward.

"Merlin, I-"

"Forget about me, Mordred." The person in question frowned in dismay at Merlin's bleak yet unwavering tone. He could feel the dark, mind-numbing loneliness crawling its way back in beneath his skin. It had taken weeks to shake the majority of it off the first time, but now it was returning in full force. He shook his head wordlessly, unwilling to accept a second rejection from his love, especially not when he could clearly see the mirrored agony in the older man's world-weary eyes. He didn't allow the tears to fall from his eyes, simply opened his mouth, ready to further protest but Merlin was already ducking out of the room, leaving him behind. Mordred squeezed his eyes shut tightly, fisting his hands so that the skin strained over his knuckles. How many times must he be left behind? Disregarded, forgotten about...Was he really that unlovable or was it his fault for wanting somebody who simply did not want his love? Regardless, he knew that he would never be able to do as Merlin wanted- forgetting Merlin was like forgetting how to breathe: impossible.

_'I shall not...even should I stop speaking of it, I shall never forget...I promise you that.'_

* * *

"...and this numpty's too busy looking back that he gets knocked off his horse by a low hanging branch." Percival was already laughing before he'd got the rest of the tale out, Mordred, Leon and Elyan quickly following suit while Gwaine looked on, thoroughly put out by the laugh at his expense. It was the following evening and the knights were as rowdy as ever while they dined and made merry. Mordred was certainly glad for the distraction.

"You do know I could have died," Gwaine complained, eyeing Percival's cheery face. "That is no laughing matter."

"I know you could have died- I had to save your neck!"

"Don't listen to him, Mor, he doesn't know what he's talking about," Gwaine told the druid in a long suffering manner, throwing an arm over his shoulders and sticking his tongue out at the friendly giant's wide, flush-cheeked grin. Having drunk more than he was used to, Mordred leaned slightly into his friend's side, enjoying the warmth of another's body against his own. It had been too long since he'd last experienced affection like this; Merlin had never extended that kind of gesture towards him, he reminded himself icily. His head was now lolling gently against Gwaine's shoulder and he smiled lopsidedly when he felt the rugged man's chest vibrate with the deep chuckle he emitted. "I do believe that our Sir Mordred is a little bit drunk," the man announced to the others in a fond tone. Barely hearing everyone's laughter, the brunette craned his neck to look up at Gwaine hazily, giggling shortly when the latter tugged playfully at his rosy cheek.

"Are you feeling alright, Mordred?" Leon inquired from across the table, smiling tipsily himself.

"Aw, look at his little face," Elyan teased as he took a long draw from his goblet, appearing more sober than the rest of them and picking grapes from the nearest fruit bowl. Booming laughter erupted from the head of the banquet hall, startling Mordred mildly and he glanced down the table towards where the King was looking jolly and animatedly commanding the audience of his wife and fellow dining companions. His attention slid back to the comforting weight of Gwaine's arm around him and he was about to return his gaze to the man when it was caught and trapped by a familiar manservant's. He swallowed harshly as Merlin all but glared at him, staring him down as though in challenge. He frowned faintly, his blissful disposition swiftly dissipating and leaving him feeling cold and dead sober. Ripping his eyes away from the warlock, he attempted a warm smile to Gwaine, who pulled lightly at a thick lock of his hair.

"I think it's just about my bedtime," he said, addressing his friend's and slurring only a bit. He struggled to his feet and staggered, reaching out blindly.

"Whoa, easy there," Percival chuckled as he and Gwaine stood up to steady him. "Are you safe to make it to your chambers?" The tall knight sounded doubtful and as the brunette tilted his suddenly heavy head up to answer him, they both dissolved into fits of giggles.

"I'm glad you all seem to be enjoying yourselves," Arthur hollerred from down the other end, looking highly amused. "Are you in need of assistance, Sir Mordred?"

"No, Sire, I-"

"I'll take care of him, Sire," Gwaine jumped in helpfully, moving to sling the druid's arm across his shoulders. Mordred started to protest politely, feeling the heat of Merlin's gaze on him like a homing beacon.

"Honestly, Gwaine-"

"Nonsense, Mor, you'd sure as pass out cold in the corridor."

"I'll take him," intoned an irritated voice and the brunette tensed up at the sound of stern footsteps. "We'll be here all night if left up to you two to decide."

"Thank you, Merlin," the King said in agreement, sounding equal parts entertained and relieved. Mordred wanted to decline but he also didn't want to draw attention to the ill blood between himself and Merlin, so he clamped his mouth shut. Merlin drew his arm around his shoulders, his free hand gripping his hip firmly. He would have blushed if his face wasn't already hot with intoxication. Throat constricted and breathing thin, he allowed Merlin to help him along a short distance until the banquet hall doors were closed behind them. He halted and began to disentangle himself from the manservant's grasp.

"Come on, I haven't got all night," Merlin griped, holding fast but Mordred pulled away roughly, almost losing his balance before he recovered.

"I assure you. I am perfectly capable, Merlin," he told him dismissively, attempting as best he could to keep the slur out of his speech.

"Don't be stupid-" began the warlock but he didn't let him finish.

"You can wait a couple of minutes outside the hall- keep up the pretence that you helped me to my chambers," the brunette murmured, already slouching away down the corridor.

"Mordred, you are in no fit state-"

"I do not want your help," he finally snapped, pausing to send the older man a cursory glare. "Is that sufficiently clear enough for you to understand?" He didn't wait for a response, merely continued on, both glad and disappointed when he didn't hear a set of footsteps following in his wake.

* * *

The next morning, he was roused by a throbbing headache that had him groaning pitifully in pain. He was lying face down on his bed, where he'd landed unceremoniously the night before fully clothed, cloak and all. Groggily, he sat up and began to tug off the offending items. A loud, harsh knocking on the door had him wincing and shying away, having only managed to remove his scarlet cloak and cotton shirt and vest.

"Rise and shine, Mordred!" Gwaine announced his presence, swirling into his chambers unbidden with a sleepy-eyed Leon in tow. Mordred groaned again in protest, falling back with an arm going over his eyes.

"Come on, Mordred," he heard Leon's coaxing voice say. "Arthur will be most displeased if you're any later than you already are."

* * *

He struggled his way through training, constantly diverting his attention away from Merlin's probing gaze and barely holding up a spar against Elyan. When it was eventually over and the Queen's brother had effortlessly won, he breathed out a large, fatigued sigh of relief.

"I bet you are glad that training's over," Elyan smiled at him good naturedly, clapping him softly on the back.

"Immensely so," he smiled ruefully in response, nodding for the other knight to go on ahead. Lagging behind, he decided that a second collapse onto his bed was long overdue. He'd fill his starving belly to brimming at tonight's banquet. As he padded across the field, he sensed a certain presence bringing up the rear behind him but he ignored it. He'd had enough heartache for today. He didn't bother going to the armoury, simply headed back to his chambers, feeling on auto-pilot as his weary legs carried him along. When he got there, he poured himself a goblet of cool water by the open window and took a long draft. Staring into nothing for a minute, he took another thirsty gulp before setting the water down and beginning to undress. His movements were unhurried but even so he found it becoming rather taxing as he exhaustedly fiddled with his metal gauntlets.

The bang of his chamber door had him all but jumping out of skin and he spun around dizzily to confront the unnecessarily noisy intruder- he really ought to remember to lock his door.

"Merlin-?" He froze in shock at the decidedly dishevelled manservant as he watched the latter close the door behind him.

"I don't want you to forget," Merlin stated between pants, clutching his sides as he tried to regain his breath, his piercing blue gaze beseeching. Silence descended like a heavy blanket upon them as the disorientated druid tried to come up with a suitable reaction. He could do nothing but crunch his brows in utter befuddlement, his heart racing achingly fast. Having straightened up in a serious yet jittery manner, the warlock seemed to read the conflicting emotions crossing his features, gaze softening considerably.

"...Merlin-"

" Here," the person in question interrupted in a gentler tone than Mordred had ever heard him address him with. "Let me help you with that."


End file.
